


Can I call you tonight?

by starryscribe



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Best Friends, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Possible Character Death, References to Depression, Unrequited Love, it's not that sad i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryscribe/pseuds/starryscribe
Summary: 花吐き病 (Hanahaki disease): a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when the person they love doesn't love them back. It worsens over time and persists until the victim dies, and it can only be cured if the feelings are returned or by surgery, but they will then forget who the person is.Dream isn't a doctor - far from it. But when he hacks up a single carnation petal over his bathroom sink, the pale yellow hue stained with blood, he realizes something might be wrong.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 85





	1. well maybe I'm not, heaven knows

**Author's Note:**

> Not inspired by the song, but it's definitely fitting. Sorry if anything is OOC, I tried my best. I know hanahaki disease is typically different - the surgery only removes romantic feelings - but I wanted to put my own twist on it.
> 
> This work is entirely fiction and just for fun. If Dream or George ever expresses discomfort about shipping or requests for me to take this fic down, I immediately will. 
> 
> On that note, please enjoy :]

It was a Saturday when Dream woke up to a few specks of blood dotting his white pillowcase. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, squinting in the early afternoon sun at the red spots, and brought a hand to rest on his throat. It hurt to swallow, his morning voice more scratchy than usual - but Dream had an editing deadline to meet today, so he stripped his pillow, dropped the case into his laundry basket, and went down for a late breakfast without a second thought.

A few minutes later, Dream joined TeamSpeak with a full bite of blueberry muffin still in his mouth.

“Look who’s finally awake,” George said.

Dream rolls his eyes. “You can’t even talk, idiot. It’s like 6 pm for you, of course you’d be awake.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised he is,” Sapnap piped up. “George keeps screwing up both of our sleep schedules with how random his is.”

A noise of indignation left George’s mouth. “ _Oh come on,_ it’s not like I’m forcing you to stay up.”

Dream chokes on his muffin while Sapnap bursts out laughing. The food lodges in his throat as he attempts to swallow, his two best friends making fun of him in the background - “ _Oh come on,_ George, don’t make fun of him,” “ _Oh come on_ Sapnap, the entirety of Dream Team Tiktok is obsessed so don’t target me” - and he tries to chuckle around it but can only produce a slight wheeze.

“Oh come on, now, George. That’s not fair,” Dream manages after a large gulp of water. George only laughs in response, his voice forming the characteristic high pitched giggle Dream was used to, nudging a soft smile onto his face. _I’ll never get tired of that laugh_ , he thinks, and immediately wipes from his mind.

The three streamers settle into a comfortable silence, George coding a new plug-in, Sapnap typing an essay for school, and Dream editing the latest manhunt. He can hear the clicks of their keys as he scrolls through the recording, cutting and piecing together parts that he thinks the viewers will like the most, but he pauses when he comes across a certain clip. The hunters are mining for diamonds and iron as Dream trades with piglins in the nether. Bad is singing his ‘mining away’ song and Sapnap is poking fun at him for it, but George is quiet - until Dream catches a soft hum under his breath. He startles - _I don’t remember hearing George sing_ \- and focuses on the snippets of melody he can pick up. _George doesn’t sing_. But he was, and Dream wondered if he should tease him about it.

He opened his mouth, ready to accuse George of hiding this secret talent, but stops halfway through the first syllable of his name. Knowing him, he would become self-conscious and never do it again. Dream wasn’t ready to forget the lilt of his voice this soon, he realizes - and falters as his face flushes pink and an uncomfortable feeling churns in his stomach.

“Dream?”

“Yeah, George?”

“You started saying my name and stopped. Did you need something?”

He can hear Sapnap’s fingers slow to a stop, curious to the ongoing exchange.

“I-“ A sudden cough wracked his lungs. The feeling in his stomach migrated to his throat, threatening to expel itself as Dream tried not to heave over his keyboard.

“Give me a sec,” he gasps, and takes off his headset to run for the bathroom. Dream isn't a doctor - far from it. But when he hacks up a single carnation petal over his bathroom sink, the pale yellow hue stained with blood, he realizes something might be wrong. He picks up the petal to examine it, his coughing fit suddenly over, and feels the delicate flower with disbelief. It was undeniably real, a completely normal flower petal, albeit crumpled from its journey. Dream doesn’t know what to make of it but figures it was harmless, so he tosses it into the bin and makes a mental note to google it later.

When he sits back in his chair George and Sapnap had moved on to talking about their streaming schedule for the week.

“I’m thinking about speedrunning next Friday,” Sapnap said. “I think I can get sub thirty if I try hard enough. Might have to up the dono limit to help me focus though.”

“Okay Mr. Popular,” George said. Dream tilts back and the chair creaks. “Dream! You’re back! What were you trying to tell me?”

He hesitates. It didn’t feel right, anymore, to ask what song he was singing in a random 30 second segment of the recording or to explain that he was coughing up flowers all of a sudden.

“Was just gonna ask you how coding was going. Do you think you could finish by tomorrow so we have time to film?” George groans.

“Didn’t we literally just film last night?” he complained. “Why do you want to record a new video so early?”

“Not everyone takes two months to edit, George. I’m gonna be done with the manhunt by tonight, so we might as well record early. Right, Sapnap?”

“Hey, don’t bring me into your lover’s argument.”

Dream laughed. “You’re such an idiot. George, just work on it, okay? I’ll help after I finish this video.”

“Or what, Dream? What are you gonna do, make me?”

“You can just say you’re a bottom, George.”

“...Why would you say that?”

There was a short silence before the three of them dissolved into laughter.

Later that day, as the sun began casting warm orange shadows onto Dream’s bedroom walls, he clicked save on the final manhunt video and sighed in relief. It was oddly quiet in his house - Patches was sleeping soundly at his feet and Sapnap had left the TeamSpeak a couple hours ago to take a nap. It was silent on George’s end too. As Dream came out of his editing headspace and tuned back into his surroundings, he realized that George had stopped typing a while ago and was breathing softly into his headset instead. He cleared his throat and called out George’s name, trying to get his attention. There was a slight ruffling of clothes as George mumbled incoherently and turned onto his side, but no response, so Dream tried again, a little louder, and George murmured sleepily.

“Dream? I’m here.”

The sunlight was fading quickly, the window blinds projecting strips of warm gold onto the carpet, dust swirling gently in the air and flitting in and out of visibility. It was warm in Dream’s room, but a shiver ran down his spine as he quieted at George’s unconscious words. He could see autumn leaves piling up outside, an artist’s palette of vibrant reds and earthy browns, and he wondered how long it had been since he felt at home. Twilight fell and the dust settled. George was fast asleep on the other side of the ocean, his steady presence a heavy weight on Dream's eyes, and all thoughts of yellow carnations and light singing faded into an uneasy slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⊂(・▽・⊂)
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @starryscribe
> 
> (not beta read)


	2. I’m trying to make up my mind/just how I feel

The telltale static of an upcoming announcement buzzes through the intercom.

“Hello everyone, this is your co-pilot here. Please fasten your seatbelts and lift your trays as we prepare for landing. It is 3:57 pm in Orlando, Florida, and a beautiful warm afternoon.”

George yawns and sits up in the uncomfortable airplane seat. He cracks his neck, joints stiff after the long 10 hour flight, and unlocks his phone out of habit, navigating to his messages. Nothing new - he didn’t buy the airline’s overpriced WiFi, after all, but his finger hovers over the small “D” on his screen anyway. Perhaps later, George would blame the fondness in his eyes as he stared at Dream’s icon on jetlag and exhaustion. For now, though, he set his phone aside and turned to stare out the tiny plexiglass window. The late afternoon sun shone over the sprawling roads and lakes on the outskirts of Orlando, and the anticipation began to build once again in George’s stomach with the roaring of the engines and the bouncing of the plane down the runway.

Dream stood at the baggage claim for Gate A7, scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter, sneaker tapping against the terrazzo floor. The conveyor belt began to hum to life and Dream shoved his phone into his pocket as the mix of brown and black suitcases marched along. He grasped the cardstock poster that his little sister drew and insisted he bring - bright red marker spelled out “Welcome Home Gogy” in large blocky text - and couldn’t help but notice that his hands grew clammy as he waited for the trickle of passengers to come through the sliding glass doors.

The gravity of the situation hadn’t escaped him. Dream knew the day would come eventually, and TwitchCon was the opportunity they had been waiting for. George would come to Florida, stay with Dream for a weekend and let him introduce the city before the two flew to Houston to meet up with Sapnap and finally board a plane to San Diego for the gaming convention. The plan made sense and George had bought his ticket before Dream had the time to process what was about to happen. Now, Dream was standing in the same airport he once threw up in as a snotty 8 year old kid who ate one too many Airheads, and he was 30 seconds away from seeing his best friend for the past four years. He cursed himself for wearing the same white T-shirt and grey Gators sweatpants he had rolled out of bed in.

“Dream?”

And there he was, with his brown hair tousled into several cowlicks and a black coat too thick for the humid air hanging off his shoulders. George stood two feet in front of him, his head tilted slightly up to focus on the taller man. Dream stepped forward hesitantly - and crushed George in the tightest hug he had given for a long, long time. And, well, if Dream was too busy hiding his tears in George’s heavy jacket to notice, the lump of violet hydrangea petals in his throat was none the wiser.

George was unpacking his clothes in the guest bedroom of Dream’s house when Dream called for dinner.

“George! The pizza we ordered is here.”

The dinner table was set with cheap plastic tablecloth and ceramic white plates, the steaming thick-crusted pie still in its cardboard box at the center of the table. Dream had set out two cans of Coors Light as well, droplets of condensation trickling down the edges of the ice cold drink.

“Cracking open a cold one with the boys, I see,” George joked. Dream rolled his eyes.

“You sure you can handle the alcohol, George? After all, I’d have to card you if I didn’t know any better.”

George shot him an annoyed glance and popped the tab in indignation, taking a deep gulp of the beverage. He tried not to scrunch up his face at the bitter taste.

“You look constipated, dude.”

“Ugh,” George groaned. “Just eat your stupid pizza, Dream.”

He hid a smile with a mouth stuffed full of pepperoni and cheesy goodness.

Dream hummed to himself as he washed the dishes, George crashed on the couch in his living room after dinner. He figured he’d forgive his friend just this once for falling asleep before 9 pm and leaving him to clean up after them. When Dream sat down on the single sofa chair across from George, relaxing into the worn leather seat, a sense of deja vu washed over him. The same soft sighs Dream once heard crackling in his headphones lingered in the heavy air. He found himself staring at the boy resting on his furniture. _So that’s what George looks like when he fell asleep on call that day_.

And look he did. George’s lips were slightly red from the tomato sauce and cheeks pale in the dimly lit room. He was using his arm as a makeshift pillow and his face was smushed slightly into his elbow. _Cute_.

Dream’s stomach lurches. He runs to the bathroom with an edge of panic in his footfalls, and kneels over the toilet bowl as periwinkle petals force their way out one by one. The drops of blood begin to dissolve, a gnawing sense of dread dissipating into the light red water. He stares at the innocuous flowers drifting on the surface. _They’re taunting me_ , he whispers to himself. Suddenly, Dream stands up and yanks the toilet handle with all his pent-up frustration. He didn’t know why he was so angry, or where the anger came from - but as soon as the purple-blue leaves were out of sight, he collapsed onto the cold tiled floor with his head in his hands and muffled a shout.

_What’s wrong with me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys, thank you so much for all the support! I can't believe this fic got 40 kudos - it's the first one I've ever written and I'm so happy you guys like it.
> 
> ⊂(・▽・⊂)
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @starryscribe
> 
> (not beta read)


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